


Opium and Wine

by piecrumbs



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-15
Updated: 2007-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piecrumbs/pseuds/piecrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radu's vices were drugs, alcohol, and sex. As he indulged in the first two, Süleyman stopped by to provide the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opium and Wine

His fingers loosely encircled the stem of the slender pipe, tendrils of smoke curling up and away to cloak the room in a sweet haze. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Radu drew in a lungful of smoke, holding it for a beat, two, before letting it seep out from between parted lips. A bottle of wine sat on a tray nearby, well on its way to being empty; the glass had been discarded long ago for the less elegant but much more convenient method of drinking directly from the bottle.

"A 2976 Bordeaux? You are doing it a disservice, drinking like that."

Blue eyes slid over to the figure silhouetted in the doorway and Radu flipped a hand in lazy salute, "Your Grace." Süleyman raised an eyebrow but stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Pausing briefly to pick the glass up off the floor, Süleyman helped himself to the wine and immediately drained it. "To what do I owe the honor of your company?" Radu drawled, more than just slightly drunk. Each movement by either man caused the smoke to swirl, catching and reflecting the light from the dim lamps placed around the room.

Süleyman ignored the question, waving a hand in an attempt to clear the air before giving up on that fruitless endeavor, and seated himself at Radu's side on the divan. Leaning back into the myriad of cushions, he nursed a second glass of wine, legs crossed. Made bold by the mixture of alcohol and opium, Radu sprawled out, resting his head on Süleyman's thigh, fingers playing with and tugging at a loose thread. A hand came down to stroke through his hair, pulling out the tie and petting absentmindedly. Radu's tongue darted out briefly to wet pursed lips, a thin stream of smoke was blown out, before he spoke again, "You are tense, Your Grace. Did something happen?" It was not a question, though couched as one; rarely did Süleyman approach him in Radu's own rooms otherwise.

A shrug. "There was a disagreement." No further information was offered and Radu did not press, choosing instead to bring the pipe to his lips again. This time though, a hand enclosed his, bringing the ivory stem away as the Süleyman leaned down to seal their mouths together. Easily accepting the kiss, Radu tilted his head back, letting the smoke flow between them, the distinct taste of opium and wine pervading their very being. The pipe slid from between slender fingers, falling forgotten to the floor as Radu wound his free hand into the wisps of Süleyman's hair that flew free and unbound.

Air was a necessity though, and as Süleyman drew back, Radu offered him a sultry smile between deep breaths. The elder of the two snorted in amusement, hauling Radu to his feet and tossing him onto the bed. "Strip," he commanded, shrugging out of his own jacket and placing the half-full glass onto a nearby table. Radu laughed, sitting up to tug the silk shirt over his head, the sash around his waist coming loose with but a touch to allow his pants to slip over his hips, leaving him nude. Not unlike a large cat, he stretched, comfortable in his skin as he pillowed his head on his arms, resting on his stomach while waiting for Süleyman to join him.

Settling over Radu, Süleyman drew his tongue along the curve of Radu's neck, smirking as the teen shuddered and shifted to better bare his throat. Süleyman's teeth grazed the pulse point before breaking skin, lapping at the beads of blood that welled up and out and Radu hummed in pleasure. The sound rumbled deep in his throat and drew an amused chuckle from the Duke as Radu rolled back onto his back, drawing a leg up and winding his arms around Süleyman's neck to bring their lips together, Radu savoring how the taste of blood mixed with the other flavors that was drug, alcohol, and so uniquely _Süleyman_.

Over the past few years, Radu had taken a great many lovers since he was first fucked by the Süleyman; the yeniçeri, or whomever else requested his _services_ for the night, it was rare Radu would not spread his legs if someone wished it of him. However, Radu prefered Süleyman to the others, and it was known--though never said--that if the Duke was seen speaking to the Baron, it was improbable that the latter would accept an invitation for the night. Over the past few years, Radu had grown attuned to Süleyman's moods, his needs, and would play the role the Duke wished of him without complaint. The Duke was a considerate lover, so long as his temper was not tried, so long as Radu did as Süleyman wished of him.

Today, Süleyman was stressed, tense, not in the mood for games and Radu recognized that. He pressed a kiss to Süleyman's cheek, and hooked a leg behind Süleyman's, feeling the bunching of sheets beneath his back as he urged Süleyman to do as he knew the man wished. Preparation was rough, quick and hardly useful, but Radu didn't mind. He wouldn't break, and he welcomed pain as easily as he welcomed pleasure; finding pain could bring the pleasure to levels never before imagined. At the moment, he was also relaxed from the opium and wine, and the penetration, though painful, was nowhere as bad as it sometimes was.

When Süleyman thrust in, Radu's eyes clenched shut, then slit open as he bit down on Süleyman's shoulder, drawing blood. " _Fuck_ ," he hissed, his back arching as he hooked his ankles together, bringing them closer. The curse drew a low chuckle from Süleyman and an insincere reprimand that caused Radu's nails to drag sharply across the skin of Süleyman's back on it's way up to the base of his neck.

Nimble fingers made clumsy by the drug, alcohol, sex, made clumsy by Radu's vices that he never bothered to worry about, picked at the clasp that held Süleyman's hair back, until the wrought gold came apart from the rich darkness that fell in waves to pool over Süleyman's shoulders. He buried his hands deep in the strands, delighting in the texture. It slipped through and between his fingers as Süleyman moved without waiting for Radu to adjust, drawing a sharp bout of pain that wasn't really pain because it was pleasure and a pleasure that was enhanced and a pain that was dulled due to the drugs that swam in his blood.

Strong fingers reached between them to wrap around Radu's cock and Radu's eyes slid shut again, the teen drawing in a sharp breath, though he knew enough not to react further without explicit permission from the Duke. Süleyman was in one of his _moods_ and it was better for both of them when Radu did precisely what was asked of him; verbal commands were unnecessary by now. The fingers of one hand twisted in hair, the other pressed tight into the muscle of a strong shoulder, and Radu pulled Süleyman in, encouraging more, harder, faster. What Süleyman needed. A fuck free of stress and the necessity of holding back in any way. There would be bruises that faded in a few hours on his hips, Radu knew, in the exact shape of Süleyman's fingers, and cuts that started at the sensitive point behind his ear that trailed all the way to the junction between neck and shoulder, courtesy of Süleyman's fangs.

There was truly no other word for it. Fuck. Fucking. Fucked. Crude and harsh and exactly what Süleyman wanted right now, what Radu was completely willing to spread his legs for. He was no doll of porcelain, people tended to forget; this was just as good as being taken gently, this could be _better._ Radu welcomed it, pain and pleasure alike. It was fast and rough and over quickly, Süleyman reaching climax with a grunt, Radu following with a few strokes of Süleyman's hand, a quiet sound escaping into the air as he came.

Their legs lay tangled in Radu's bed, Süleyman once more languidly stroking Radu's hair as Radu caught his breath. A few beats later and he wriggled out from under the light touch to snag the wine bottle where it had been left. He drank deeply, then passed the bottle to Süleyman who hesitated for a moment, looking at the glass that stood a few meters away, before shrugging and taking a drink of his own. Radu slipped back into bed with a damp cloth, cleaning up the mess and leaving the soiled material on his nightstand as he sprawled across the bed again, head pillowed against Süleyman's shoulder.

Within the hour, Radu knew, Süleyman would rise, dress, and leave, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Although this happened often enough that, quite honestly, nothing out of the ordinary _had_ happened. Radu knew this, understood it, and had no problems with it. Within the hour, Süleyman would return to the room he took whenever he was within Imperial Grounds, to work or sleep or bathe, and Radu would return to his wine and opium, to his opium and wine.


End file.
